To Set a Course for the Universe
by Verity Lovegood
Summary: The Doctor and the Traveler are the same. When they meet, they find they understand each other, and perhaps they don't have to be alone any longer. Harry is MoD and implied as not being in his home universe. It can be read as a little slashy if you don't mind squinting. Not a one-shot anymore, but there isn't really going to be a plot, just isolated scenes periodically added.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: This isn't mine, unfortunately. I'm merely using someone else's creations as it suits my whimsy.**

The first time they met, it was raining. The clouds were dark above the small planet and the blue-tinted light they cast across the landscape made the yellow grass appear almost green. The city was alive with activity and people of many different species hurried about, hunched against the rain.

It reminded them both of London. Though they each were remembering two different cities, universes apart, they were the same city in the ways that matter. They had both traveled extensively across much of time and space, and the chances of two such as them meeting on this little planet in the far corner of a distant galaxy a long time from Earth were astronomically small. But then again, impossibilities were a regular occurrence around the both of them, so perhaps a meeting was inevitable.

The Traveler was sitting on a park bench with a large umbrella over his head to hide the fact that he was using water repelling charms that kept the rain off him. The Doctor walked passed him, head down, hands in his pockets, and collar turned up against the rain, and sat down on the bench next to him, resting his elbows on his knees. The Traveler turned to look at him, seeing the set of sadness in his face, seeing the age in his eyes, and seeing the longing in the set of his body when he looked at the city so full of life. He recognized these things that most people can only catch glimpses of because he saw them everyday in himself.

"Sit next to me," he offered the man. When the other started and looked over at him in surprise, the Traveler continued. "The rain is cold and there is room under my umbrella for the both of us."

The Doctor rose to his feet and walked over to the other bench. Once he had folded himself onto the bench and out of the rain, he attempted to wipe the water from his face and brush the dripping end of his messy hair away from his eyes. The other man chuckled lightly and handed him a dry, white handkerchief with looping green embroidery.

"Thank you," The Doctor said, surprised, as he dried his face and the back of his neck where small rivulets of water were running down from his hair line. After he finished, he offered the handkerchief back to the other man.

The traveler waved it away, saying, "Keep it, I have plenty of them and you may find a better use for it than me."

"I think you found an excellent use for it," the Doctor replied, "I had found myself feeling rather soggy, and I thank you for your kindness."

"You're very welcome. Sometimes when I feel…off…I find that a nice gesture from a stranger can be more helpful than one may realize." They both knew that he was talking of more than just being a little wet, but the Doctor remained silent, accepting the comment, and ignoring the subtle inquiry that the man had offered.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a long time, watching the city move around them and listening to the sound of voices, vehicles, and rain on the umbrella and the pavement before them.

They felt no real need to speak, because they already understood the other. They knew that they were the same, two travelers, one running, one drifting, feeling the weight of too many years and the aimless meandering of one without people waiting for their return. They saw themselves in the other, and for a time they were not alone as they shared the shelter of the umbrella, a small sanctuary of sorts for just the two of them.

But then the rain ended making the umbrella no longer needed, and the spell that had suspended reality for the two of them was broken, so there wasn't really any reason to stay. The red-orange sun had come back out and the grass was yellow again and the sky was a hazy brown color and it was hard to see how this city on this little planet could have ever reminded someone of the London they each remembered.

They stood up together, giving each other a small nod before walking in opposite directions, the Traveler to find a secluded place to disappear and the Doctor to his TARDIS.

Back in the control room, the Doctor looked at the handkerchief hung to dry on the warm console and thought of how similar the green embroidery was to the man't eyes. A few hours later when he took it down again, he folded it carefully and slid it into an inside pocket in his jacket, before turning to the controls with a smile and setting a course for the universe.

* * *

The second time they met, they were sitting on a cloud. The Doctor had taken his TARDIS into the sky to watch the sun rise over London. It was still dark and the stars were out, unobstructed by the barest hint of a glow from the Eastern horizon. The Doctor parked his TARDIS in the barest edge of a cloud in order to stay out of sight of the people below. As he arrived, his the TARDIS alert system went off, telling him of a small object hovering next to him. He hurried to the door and yanked it open, stoping short when he saw the handkerchief man sitting next to him in the sky. He thought that he ought to be surprised, after all, the man was just _floating_ there, but he couldn't help but feel that this was normal, perhaps expected even. Moving more slowly, he lowered himself down to sit level with the man with his feet hanging out of the doorway.

"This is my favorite time of day," the man began without preamble. "They say it is darkest just before dawn, and perhaps that is true, but it just makes the stars that much brighter. And when the sun does come, the light is all the more beautiful for the darkness that precedes it. We cannot truly appreciate something until we know what it is to live without it."

The Doctor hums slightly, his eyes fixed on the growing glow on the horizon. "I enjoy the peacefulness and the poised potential; the feeling of the world waking up and the brilliant life the light brings. I especially enjoy sunrises over London. It's such a brilliant city with so much human potential and I find myself drawn back here time and time again."

"I used to live in London, once upon a time," the floating man said. "It was a different London, not quite the same as this one, but when I see it like this from up above, I can pretend that it is mine. That below me, the sun is rising over the people and places I once knew and if I were to only check, I'd find my old life waiting for me."

The Doctor reached over and took his hand, surprising the other man when he laced their fingers together. He understood the feeling of which the man spoke. (That he could pretend Rose was down there, waiting, not in another London, in another universe.) He knew what it was to lose one's home, one's family and how nothing could ever quite fill that emptiness. But some things could make it better, and he said as much with his actions. _I know, and I'm sorry,_ his gesture seemed to say, _I wish I could make it better, but I can't, because nothing really can._

"Thank you," the Traveler said quietly as he brought the Doctor's hand up to press gently against his lips, "I'm glad I can watch the sunrise with you."

Just as he said it, the edge of the sun broke the horizon, flooding their faces with light and warmth and gradually illuminating the city below them. The tops of the buildings were lit first, and they cast long shadows back across the city. The water of the Thames was rushing in just as the light did and the city seemed born anew in the dawn, an ancient, yet timeless place, thrumming with vitality.

As the sun made it's way fully into the new day, the two men rose to their feet, one in the doorway of his spaceship and the other in the empty air. The Doctor continued to hold tightly to the Traveler's hand, until the Traveler stepped forward until they were facing each other and he raised his free had to brush over the Doctor's cheek while he gave a gentle squeeze back. The Doctor loosened his hold reluctantly and the Traveler stepped back before turning on his heel and disappearing with a quiet pop.

The Doctor stepped back as well, softly closing the doors against the blinding light of Earth's sun. As he walked back to the console, the handkerchief felt warm in his pocket, settled next to the rightmost of his two hearts. He raised his hand and rested it against his cheek where the traveler's finger's had touched, before turning to the controls with a smile and setting a course for the universe.

* * *

The third time they met, he was watching Donna Noble. She was laughing at something said on the phone as she rushed about, her eye's shinning merrily and a bag swinging from her arm. He was standing out of sight where she would never accidentally look, and he didn't know if seeing her like this, happy and ignorant of his existence, was better or worse. He wanted to mourn the loss of his friend, but it seemed wrong of him to do so when she was so happy, so vivacious.

"Who is she?" the Traveler asked as he stepped up beside him where he was leaning on the railing, looking down at her on the street.

"She was my best friend," the Doctor replied, "but she was dying, her mind burning from the inside out, and to save her I had to lock away all memories and knowledge related to me. If she sees me, she will remember and she will die."

The Traveler looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to ask her if she is happy? Just so you can hear her say it?"

"No," the Doctor sighed, "I know she is happy, it just hurts to see her like that, happy without knowing of our friendship, of the adventures we once shared. It hurts to know she doesn't need me." _Like I need her_ , went unspoken between them.

They were quiet a moment before the Traveler began to speak. "I had a friend, once, whose parents were in danger because we were. She knew that they couldn't protect themselves from what was after us, and she knew that our enemies would not hesitate to use them against her. So she wiped their memories of her existence and had them move to Australia under different names. Years later, after the danger had passed, she went to see them. She told me that she had asked them if they were happy, if they had ever wanted children. They told her that they had never had any desire for children, that a child would have merely torn apart their lives and they were far happier as they were. She left them then, and came back home. She told me later that while she would always love them, it did no good to wish for what might have been and instead she lived her life with the family she had created, not dwelling on the echoes of what is gone. She was a very practical person, Hermione."

The Doctor nodded, "There is wisdom in that. I know I must let Donna go, but I don't have anyone else to pull me forward."

"Neither do I," the Traveler said softly.

"Come with me, then," the Doctor said suddenly, turning to look at the other man. "Neither of us has ties, we are both wandering the stars alone, it would be just the two of us for as long as we want."

"It's not the right time, I think you know that," the Traveler said, not unkindly, "You need to find someone young and bright to push you forwards, someone to whom you can show the stars and see the wonder in their eyes as they discover the beauty in the universe. Someone who can remind you how to see that for yourself."

"Yes, I do need that. But maybe the time will be right the next time we meet." The Doctor gave the Traveler a smile and one last look towards not-his Donna Noble, and called the TARDIS into being beside him. As he stepped inside, he saw the Traveler spin and disappear out of the corner of his eye. Back inside his TARDIS, he muttered a quick "Allons-y," before turning to the controls with a smile and setting a course for the universe.

* * *

The fourth time they met, the Doctor was wearing a different face. The Traveler turned to look at him, smiled, and said, "I like the bow-tie."

The Doctor seemed slightly surprised for a moment, saying, "You d-I mean, well of course you do; bow-ties are cool."

The Traveler chuckled and asked, "Have you found anyone to run with?"

The Doctor's expression turned a little bittersweet. "I did, but they don't really need me as much as I need them. They are married, now, and they have their own life that I'm not quiet a part of."

"Did you try to be?" the Traveler asked him curiously.

"Of course I did!" the Doctor exclaimed, "I pop over for dinner sometimes and I invite them on adventures! I tell them all about what I do and I ask about their lives!"

"Do you schedule the dinners before hand?" the Traveler asked, slightly concerned.

"Well, no, but I'm not very good at hitting the right date anyway," the Doctor replied, slightly sheepish.

"Then how about you call them and say a time and date you're going to try to make it on. And tell them that you are going to bring a side and a dessert," the Traveler instructed.

The Doctor looked slightly panicked at the idea. "I don't know how to cook!"

"That's alright," the Traveler placated, "I'll make the food, you just have to set it up. And when you are there, you can talk about making it a regular thing. Then you will be part of their lives without disrupting them."

He smiled, relieved. "Thank you, that's a very good idea. Do you want to come inside?" he asked, gesturing at the TARDIS parked beside them. "You can use my kitchen, if you'd like."

"I would love that," the Traveler smiled. "And by the way, my name is the Traveler."

The Doctor laughed as he held the door open, "And I am the Doctor." He had somehow predicted that the Traveler wouldn't be at all shocked by his bigger-on-the-inside ship. "We make quite the pair, don't we," he said before turning to the controls with a smile and setting a course for the universe.

 **AN: This is a one-shot for now, though I may come back and add on later.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: That didn't last very long as a one-shot; I found there were too many places it wanted to go. Thank you to all who encouraged me to write more on this story, and I think that I will likely be returning here some more.**

 **Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

* * *

It had been a few months since the Doctor had called and said he wanted to have dinner with them on Wednesday evenings. That he wanted to make it a regular thing, Wednesday night dinner. They had been rather bemused the first time he had shown up, carrying a pot in one hand that contained a very delicious dish of potatoes and sweet potatoes with rosemary. In the other hand he had held what appeared to be a plate of raspberry cheesecake, but was in fact a pomegranate one. He had been trying (and failing) to contort himself into a position in which he could ring the doorbell when Rory saw him out the front window and came to his rescue.

"Doctor! It's so good to see you!" he'd exclaimed as he took the cheesecake gently from his right hand. "Follow me, you can put that pot on the stove."

"We were hoping you'd show up," Amy said as he walked inside. "I know you have problems with hitting the right date sometimes, so I'm so glad you are here."

The Doctor looked slightly affronted at the mention of his occasionally inaccurate driving. "The TARDIS sometimes choses to take my places other than where I ask. It's hardly my fault! But I made sure that she knew that I was coming to see you Ponds and she was perfectly willing to get me here on time."

The Ponds smiled and shook their heads and it wasn't until later, after the Doctor had left that they realized they hadn't asked who made the food. It had been very good and it hadn't poisoned them in some creative manner, so they were disinclined to think that it had been him.

The next time he had come, he had shown up with two new dishes and the Ponds took the opportunity to ask them who cooked them.

"The food you brought last week was fantastic, Doctor," Amy had told him, "but I don't think we ever asked you who made it."

"Oh, just a friend of mine doing me a favor," the Doctor had replied, waving off the implied question.

They had let it go at the time, but when the next week the Doctor had shown up with two new dishes, they had begun to get rather curious. Amy and Rory made sure to compliment the food, telling the Doctor how good it was, but all the Doctor every said was, "All pass along your compliments to the chef."

"He has to have a new companion," Rory said suddenly, a couple of months after the first Wednesday dinner.

"Why do you say that?" Amy had replied. "He has never mentioned anyone new, and you'd think that he'd talk about a new friend of his."

"Well, first of all," Rory ticked off on his finger, "he always has food with him. Secondly, he never implies that they are cooked by different people. The only person who would be around the Doctor enough to cook for him regularly would be someone who travels with him. And lastly, he might not want to talk about someone new in his life in case he was worried we would be hurt about being replaced."

"But thats rather silly," Amy said, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "We would be overjoyed if he got a new companion; it's not good for him to be alone."

"Yes, _we_ know that," Rory stressed, "but does he?"

"We'll just have to tell him then, won't we," Amy said firmly to her husband.

The next time the Doctor has come to dinner, they made sure to give an open invitation for anyone he might like to bring.

"You know Doctor," Amy had said, just after plating up the most recent side of green beans with onions and bacon chopped up in it, "we would love to meet any new friend of yours. If you have gotten yourself a new companion, then we would love to meet her."

The Doctor had laughed loudly at that, thought the Ponds weren't sure why, and told them, "I'll pass along your invitation with the compliments."

Now it was the week after that dinner, and the Ponds were hoping that the Doctor would bring a friend when he arrived. They heard the doorbell ring loudly, and looked at each other in slight confusion. After the first time when Rory had seen him out the window, the Doctor had taken to knocking on the door with his heel because he always seemed to have his hands full.

They went together to answer it, curious about the change in pattern, and they soon saw why the bell was rung. The Doctor only had one pot in his hand, leaving the other free to push the button. The other plate was in the hands of the man next to him.

To their credit, the Ponds were only slightly stunned for a moment, before remembering their manners and taking the food off their hands as they ushered them inside.

"Hello, sir. I'm Amy," Amy said, offering a hand once she had gotten to the kitchen and set the plate down.

"I am the Traveler," the man replied with a smile as he took Amy's hand. As he repeated the gesture with Rory, the couple looked him over subtly. He had a slight build, standing at about 1.7 meters, green eyes and messy black hair. He was wearing a green dress shirt with the top button unbuttoned and black slacks. He had an easy, bright smile, and looked to be a teenager, but there was an echo of age in his eyes that betrayed itself in every confident motion of the self assured man. The Ponds had traveled with the Doctor for long enough to become far more perceptive than most people, and they knew that this Traveler was far more than he seemed.

"I've heard from the Doctor that you have enjoyed my cooking," the Traveler said. "It has been wonderful to have guinea pigs on which to try new recipes"

"Oh, yes," Rory replied, "the food has been very good and we have been hoping to meet the chef for quite some time. Are you and the Doctor living together?"

The Doctor turned ever so slightly pink at that phrasing, but the Traveler just smiled. "As my name suggests, I do quite a bit of traveling. We found it to both of our benefits to do so with each other."

Amy smiled as well, happy to hear that her Raggedy Man had found someone new who could keep him from being lonely. She liked the Traveler because of how much he reminded her of the Doctor. She wasn't quite sure why, perhaps it was their kindly manners, their penchant for staying in motion, or their old eyes, but she knew instinctively that they were similar. Her Doctor had finally found someone who he didn't have to worry would get into trouble that he would need to save him from, someone who understood him, someone who could show him new things, someone who he could regard as an equal. She knew her Doctor was happy; she had seen it in his gestures and heard it in his voice, stronger each time he visited. Anyone who could make a place in his heart would always be welcomed into hers, and she vowed that she would show the Traveler that, even if it took her years. Because they were years that she knew they had. The two wanderers fit together too well for their friendship to be anything but long and beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you to those who reviewed! I love hearing that you enjoy the story, it has inspired me to write more.**

 **This was supposed to be cute when I started, but it** **ended up a little heavy. Smatterings of both fluff and angst waiting ahead.**

It was true that they were happy. They had managed to find a peace in their lives that was present each time they were together. Some days were still extraordinary, though.

The Doctor could feel it in the air the moment he walked into the kitchen that this was going to be one of those extra special days. He saw it in the window that the TARDIS would have created at the Traveler's behest, the window showing a sunny day over a meadow when he knew they were still in the black between the stars. He heard it in the humming that filled the room, leaving no gaps for oppressive silences. He smelled it in the breakfast cooking on the stove and tasted it in the bite he stole from one the unfinished plates. But most of all, he _felt_ it in the disapproving frown that quickly succumbed to an indulgent smile as the Traveler softly smacked his arm.

"I'm not finished yet," the Traveler told him, brushing away the hand that reached to pilfer another bit of fruit. "Go sit at the table, I will be along in a minute."

The Doctor raised his hands in surrender and went to do as he was bid. He sat quietly for the few minutes it took for the Traveler to finish up, content in the comfortable atmosphere. As the Traveler slid a plate in front of him and himself into the seat opposite, The Doctor picked up the fork to take a bite.

"It is as delicious as always, Traveler," the Doctor said with a smile.

"I'm glad," the chef replied. "I have never cooked any food from Xenaxon, and I didn't know if it was going to be edible or not. There's still the chance I may have poisoned us somehow."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at that but continued eating. "I think I'll take my chances, this is too good to pass up. What is it that makes Xenaxonian cuisine so different?"

The Doctor smiled slightly as the Traveler launched into an explanation about agriculture and preservation techniques, content to watch his hands move descriptively as he spoke and his green eyes light up brightly at the topic.

Yes, this was one of the extra special days, he thought, and he intended to enjoy it as much as he could.

But not every day was happy or bright. Days as careless and free as the ones they enjoyed didn't come without the rest. Life is balanced, demanding, and sometimes cruel, and of all people, they had more life than most.

The both of them had the rare ability of being able to trip over trouble _anywhere_ and neither had the ability to walk away. Most of the time it wasn't a hardship, and they were able to save people and be adventurous and keep from getting bored. But sometimes it wasn't trouble of the right sort, and not even they could fix it. "You win some, you lose some," people say, but when your wins and loses can affect so much more than one's self, it's much harder to just shrug it off.

On those days, when they were forced to admit that they weren't able to save everyone despite their many skills, they would leave back for the cosmos. They sat in the doorway of their TARDIS (for surely now it was the Traveler's home as much as the Doctors) and looked at the stars. They would tell each other stories about them, stories both real and imagined, told either by a people looking up from their own worlds or created by their brilliant minds, and they would remember that there existed far more then they could ever experience, even with live's such as theirs. They would tell each other that it wasn't their job to take the universe's suicide pills away, and that they weren't to blame when they couldn't help, but neither of them really believed it. They both had a bit of a "saving people thing" and each loss was another fracture to their surpriseingly fragile psyches.

But they moved on, and each day they attempted to help the other heal a little more even as the universe demanded they give more and more of themselves. They flew on until something had to give, until a breaking point was reached, and those were the only days they let the universe survive without them.

It was one such day, the Doctor knew as soon as he walked into the still kitchen. They always met there in the morning and he was already a little late. After glancing around and see in no sign of the Traveler, he walked to the other man's room. Opening the door a crack, the Doctor looked in the dim room and saw him curled up in the bed, facing away. The Doctor knew he was awake from the lack of the deep, rhythmic breaths of sleep, so he slipped into the room to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Traveler? Do you want some breakfast?" the Doctor inquired, concerned. Receiving no response, he hesitantly reached out a hand to rest against his shoulder and felt it shaking with silent sobs.

The Doctor toed off his shoes and slipped his legs beneath the covers, sitting up against the headboard. He reached over, gently but firmly pulling the Traveler closer to him. Something seemed to break at that and he quickly turned around, moving close to rest his head on the Doctor's stomach. The Doctor held him tightly with one arm and ran the other hand through the messy hair, making soothing, nonsensical noises.

They stayed that way for a while, the Traveler curled up against the Doctor, his body wracked with sobs. Eventually, the Traveler fell asleep and relaxed against him, but the Doctor remained awake, running his hand through the black hair. He knew that they weren't quite whole, neither of them, they both carried with them too many things. But he also knew that just as he would always help the Traveler bear the past, the Traveler would always help him, and together they would hold the weight of the universe. Together, they were like Atlas, the Titan who bore the weight of the sky lest it crush the Earth, for together they were mighty.

But neither were gods nor Titans, only impossible men, and sometimes even a shared suffering is suffering to great. So the Doctor sat in the dark, holding close his wonderful Traveler, truly feeling the true weight of the universe that day as it pressed heavy in the air.

The day passed, until the Traveler stirred in early evening, and they rose to make themselves dinner. As they cooked, the atmosphere lightened, until they were teasing and joking, only a slight bit of despondence to hint at the earlier lugubrious mood. They watched the stars together out the TARDIS door and the Doctor fell asleep against the Traveler's shoulder, rather understandably, considering he had been awake all day while the Traveler slept. The Traveler cast a feather light charm and carried him back to his room. He pulled off the Doctor's shoes and the covers up, before turning off the lights as he left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

They slept peacefully, the TARDIS a gentle hum in their respective rooms. It might have not been a carefree day, but life moves on, and one thing both men had learned in their exceptionally long ones was that a full life is composed of both the good and the bad. Even though they might sit a day out of their normal adventures from time to time, they were never going to stop saving the universe, for that is forever who they are.


End file.
